19

Jul. ’10

Gidget Goes To Mumbai

Rogers at the Gerrard Street Festival

Yes, Rogers, I don`t hate you anymore.  I am still wary of your monopolizing ways, but you have me at  ON DEMAND.  In an effort to pinch some pennies, latte factor-style, I decided to give in to that bundle that Rogers offers where your phone, cable, and internet are at a supposed discount.  It turned out I would still be saving money if I gave in and got one of those boxes that I have been resisting for years because it’s just one more gizmo I have to break in.  Not knowing how to use something causes too much anxiety which is why I didn’t answer my i-Phone for a month when I first got it and why I took the TTC when I got a car with manual transmission.  It turns out I was afraid of nothing.  The box is as easy to use as my own, just press the buttons.  So for the past week I have been holed up in my darkened ashram watching tv.  I have seen Gidget twice because I can!  I can watch my beloved Dr. Oz whenever I want!  I’m able to order things, this is where the latte factor may not work out, except whenever I go to Blockbuster to rent something, I end up with candy and something from the previewed bin that I probably have seen before and will watch again when it aired on tv organically, which is why I have seen Bridget Jones Diary so many times that I should be embarrassed. None of it makes sense, latte-wise.  So anyway, yesterday, I decided it was time to turn off the tv (by the way, ROD has A Single Man this month, it’s fantastic, watched it three times!) and I headed up the street to the Gerrard Street Festival.  I love when they close the streets to traffic, it feels like you’re breaking the law walking in the middle of the road but you’re not because the cops are smiling at you:

Also I love eating while walking.  I had naan bread and tikka chicken from one of the vendors.  I’m going back for more today, and the Dosa eating contest in on today at 4pm!  The Calcutta-like heat wave is perfect for walking around the festival.  The foode is delish and the colours are spectacular!

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink, Hanging Around, This Charming Man. Tags: , , , , , . Leave a comment

15

Jul. ’10

Marco…?!

Public pool ladies

Pretty much my entire childhood was spent  looking for that elusive Marco Polo.  Where I grew up, we had our own pool in the backyard.  We had lots of neighbours over so it was almost like a public pool, God knows what was in it.  One of my friends confessed years later that she would pee on the edge of it, what can you do?  I’d go and swim in her toilet but that would be just petty revenge.  Now as an adult, I’m pool-less and have to rely on actual public swimming facilities.  As you know, they are all over the city, click here to find one close to you, if you dare.  The one near me is the Donald Somerville at the foot of Woodbine.  It’s quite crowded and the thing I hate is walking up the stairs barefoot.  It’s slippery with sunscreen residue and mud, prime breeding ground for the plantar warts, ugh, let’s not even go there.  I don’t mind going to the Greenwood pool late in the day because it’s less busy and there is just a short tiptoe trot to the concrete.  They don’t like you to wear shoes at the city pools.  In fact there are so many rules that I think Marco Polo himself got fed up.  I have to say I do love to people watch and there is always something entertaining to see:  teenage couples making out, a bearded lady or two, fat men with prison yard tattoos.  The whole Diane Arbus-ness is probably better for the CNE and less appetizing for sharing water.  A few years ago, when the kids were young uns and there was a city strike (no garbage pick up or pools), someone told me about a pool at the Docks.  You pay a small fee to get in but you have lounge chairs and access to a snackbar and a real bar.  At the time it was *the* place to go for the ladies who worked in the evenings, waitresses and whatnot.  They would frolick in the pool in their thong bikinis on blow up floats (you couldn’t do that in a city-run pool) and natter away in their Slavic languages.  A Toronto Sun photographer would always be on hand snapping pictures.  It was just like South Beach.  Such fun and little Freddy learned how to swim that year.  Now the Docks is no longer and it is called Polson Pier.  The pool is still there (the ladies are not, they must be in Hollywood now, famous and happy ever after).  The facility is actually much nicer with comfy couches and umbrellas:

The pool is pretty quiet during the week, $10 for adults and $6 for children (which is undefined, “if you say she is a child, then she is a child” said the man behind the counter about my 16 year old.)  And the pool is so warm and so clear, I actually found two loonies on the bottom which in a Seinfeld moment later lost down the grate in front of the snackbar.  This year Oh Boy Burger has taken over the spot and the burgers and fries are delish, and the pizza is really good too.  The entertaining part of hanging out at the Polson Pier pool is that the venue hosts corporate events and grown-up adults are always doing goofy things (Sumo wrestling) to promote ***team spirit***(eye roll):

Corporate Chain Gang Fun Times Party Game

I mean, what is this?  It’s blazing hot out there.  Thankfully, they didn’t come into the pool.  Go Marco!

Posted by . Categories: Do This Not That, Hanging Around. Tags: , , . 2 Comments

12

Jul. ’10

Another Fine Opportunity to Serve Cold Lemonade

 

OOOOOOOH well…

I have to admit, I watched ZERO, nada, niets of this World Cup Finale.  I have to say, I just can’t crush on a soccer player.  They are too handsome, it’s unnerving.  It’s like they don’t need me, wearing their Dolce & Gabbana underwear with their perfectly groomed eyebrows, paying surrogates to have their spawn.  A hockey player might need me, with his missing teeth, to cut up his food in baby pieces.  A tennis player might need me to remind him to put on sunscreen and not to scowl or else his face might stay that way.  Even a golfer might need me to iron his Dockers (I’m digging deep here).  So yeah, the whole soccer thing is lost on me, and besides, not enough close ups so I could at least pick up some makeup tips.

As an aside but in a similar vein, my neighbours, The Chore Family, are on holiday so I thought I could sit on my front porch and guiltlessly read my book ( you know, without having to join in on weeding and whatnot)…but no, when Chore Family is away, even the mice are put to task.  I’m sure I saw one mowing the lawn.  And I am The Chosen One designated to water the container plants in the front yard (and maybe the back? uh oh).  Also they have hired people to put on a new roof:

Fixer on the Roof

Now watching roofers do their thing during a heat wave is a thing to behold.  Roofers are hot!  Pun and no pun intended.  But also impressive was that the crew from Fixer on the Roof were meticulous, polite, and made sure that the asphalt shingles they were replaced were promptly cleaned up.  Years ago, when my roof was done, I found random shingle shards like lost Easter eggs, underneath cushions, in the mint plant, even in the mailbox.  Furthermore, Trish, who runs the operation came by to see if her boys were hydrated (should have been my job) and impressed me with her credentials and knowledge of roofing, she even blogs about it!!!    And greenies, they also do solar panels which is definitely something to think about!  Click here for the website for more information and check out the blog.

Posted by . Categories: an inconvenient truth, Neighbourhood Watch, This Charming Man. Tags: . 2 Comments

10

Jul. ’10

One For My Baby (And One More For The Road)

Tomorrow the boy goes off to camp for two weeks for the fifth year.  I always think before he goes:  He’s a tiny baby, how will he survive in the wild?  Actually, now I’m thinking how will the wild survive with Bigfoot in their midst?  He’s all spindly arms and giant veins with huge and hands and GI-NORMOUS feet that shuffle through the city streets looking for food.  Burgers, of course:  The Burgers Priest, Great Burger Kitchen, The Burger Shoppe have fed the Freddy.  And every Friday, Pizzaiolo brings him his large pepperoni with a Brio.  This Friday though, I thought I’d do something special and take him to the new pizza joint, Viccino Pizzeria, at 1923 Queen Street East, just east of Woodbine.  Before going in, I was kind of hoping it would be kind of like that pizza place in Do The Right Thing, which is one of my favourite summer movies and so influential that I still pronounce “mozzarella” like “mooza-f**king-rella” when I’m ordering it at a cheese counter, I just can’t help it.  Here we’ve been having a hot spell and I love when movies depict heatwaves as backdrops for crazy volatile behaviour like in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Dog Day Afternoon, good sweaty fun!  Anyway, I was half expecting one of those pizza places with checkered table cloths, Chianti bottles for candle holders and signed Hollywood photographs of the owner with Italian-American celebrities like Danny Aiello and John Tarturro.  Inside was quite fancy in that haute urban pizza parlour way, with the exposed kitchen in the back, featuring the soon-to-be-famous wooden pizza oven.  I found out this thing was a work of art, specially custom crafted and unlike any oven anywhere else.  It’s a family run business and our waiter (nephew of the owner) was really friendly.  There are several pizzas to choose from, as well as build your own, I ordered a chicken gorgonzola with caramelized onions….Freddy ordered ****pepperoni****am rolling my eyes, Jughead needs to step up his game.  The personal size is a medium, and they are quite big but!  Holy Heaven was in that crust!  Apparently there is something magic about the oven that makes it so fantastic.  Both Freddy and I tend to leave crust-bones behind for Betty the dog but this time, we inhaled them ourselves.  They did play Frank Sinatra which made the experience authentic and also helped us helped keep the pace.  Freddy ate the whole thing, nice and easy does it, and I saved a piece for Evangeline which I ate on the way home, call me irresponsible!

Viccino Pizzeria, 1923 Queen St East 416-693-1010, eat-in, takeout, or deliver!

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink. Tags: , , , , , . 1 Comment

06

Jul. ’10

The Junction, Shmunction, What’s Your Function?

“The Agents” in Action

The tv show, The Agents,  that I’m on is still in production and they are taking their filming out of the East Hoods and into the West End.  Yesterday I was called to go visit a house on Osler (Dupont and Dundas St. West).  I sold a really sweet house on Osler a couple of years ago for a quarter pounder (that’s real estate shop talk for $250,00o) but the one I was going to see was a couple of blocks south.  As I recalled back then, the street was described as blue collar working class and it was in an up and coming neighbourhood called “The Junction.”  Toronto is becoming so neighbourhood obsessed.  Some neighbourhoods have neighbourhoods within their neighbourhood.  They do the gentrification thing and put up a row of upscale townhomes and change the neighbourhood name to something cryptic to disassociate themselves from the original:  “Corktown”, you are still in Regent Park, don’t kid yourself, the meth lab is in full view across the street and the crack hos are using your bodega to get their sundries.  Anyway, over the last two years, it turns out the citizens of The Junction have rejected Osler as part of their hood.  “Oh, no, this isn’t the Junction, ” the listing agent said, “The Junction is part of High Park and they are part of a triangle.”  He waves his hand to the West.  “Then where are we?”  I am horrified.   I need the definition.  The whole reason neighbourhoods have names is so that real estate agents know how to price a house.  Here is the view:

Osler and Dupont

It turns out the Listing Agent didn’t know what neighbourhood we were in.  And as an aside, he was serving  home made gazpacho (agents like to serve lunch on tv).  Cold soup. “Tarragon and tomatoes go so well together,”  he said with confidence.  Eating cold soup is like eating a bowl of relish.  I am out of sorts, I think I need to put this stuff on a hot dog.  He also says, “It’s a buyers’ market so I’m holding on offers til Wednesday.  I think $399,000 is a good price!”  For a house that is not considered part of the Junction?  Maybe if it was in the Junction proper! And, isn’t the defintion of “junction” to join by traffic or railroad?  The railway is a half a block away and there is so much traffic, my interview gets halted so many times that my bowl of gazpacho gets warm in the sun.  And if it is a buyer’s market, isn’t holding back offers a seller’s market strategy? There are so many trucks roaring by, I can barely think straight.  Osler Fish Market is busy for a Monday, and I thought Tuesday was fish day.  Being in the west end had me all confused, everything is so ass backwards.  Usually I am nice in my interviews, but yesterday I was  The Wicked Witch of The East; “This house is never going to sell!”  I cackled. Anyway, if this part of Osler is not considered the Junction, I`m offically calling it Gazpacho Town because I left a trail of it for three blocks.

Posted by . Categories: Field Trip, Neighbourhood Watch. Tags: , , . Leave a comment

03

Jul. ’10

Ladies and Gentleman, The THUNDERMONKS!

The Thundermonks at The Boardwalk at Kew Beach on Canada Day

Hope you are all having a great extended long weekend.  It’s always confusing when a holiday lands during the week, what day is it again?  Why are Regis and Kelly on tv on Saturday?  Mine has been uneventful which is the way I like it.  The Chore Family next door are painting their entire front porch with Mac makeup brushes, two coats is the plan.  Needless to say it will take the entire four days.  But they put the carpet out on the front lawn and we are pretending it’s the dock at The Cottage and the porch is the boat.  When a motorcycle brrrrrms by on Kingston Road, I say, “Those damn speed boats, can’t hear yourself think.”  4 Steam Whistles later, I got a farmer’s tan.  As it turns out, sunscreen is required at Pretend Cottage.  And underwear does not look like a bathing suit.  My daughter was at a real cottage in Grand Bend, lucky girl.  Consequently, Betty-Dog, has been out of sorts and acting like a crazed, barking squirrel.  On Canada Day, I took her for a long walk on the boardwalk to get her spook out.  I don’t think it help much but I did enjoy the day, the weather was just so:  Sunny, not hot, breezy but not so strong the wind didn’t whistle through your ears.  I’m sure this is how I lost entire chunks of memory.  And as usual, there were loads of people out with their exposed flesh and their prison yard tattoos and unleashed pitbulls. How I love a parade.  Musicians were out as well.  You had to be there to appreciate the Russian man strumming his guitar while reading the newspaper out loud.  One group that stood out were four young guys called the Thundermonks.  They were sooooo cute, I forgot how old I was and I digressed to my 12 year old self.  I made my friend ask them what school they went to…it turns out they had just graduated from Etobicoke School of the Arts.  I quickly did the math and when the result came up, I was ashamed.  Anyway, they were kind of jazzy, hip-hoppy and really up-beat.  Their album “Get Fed” is available on iTunes (buy it!!!!) and they are playing at The Drake Hotel on July 21.   When I got home from my walk, I asked on of the teenage neighbours if she knew them (teenagers know everyone, look at their Facebook accounts) and as it turns out she is dating the drummer!!!!  I’m hoping she can get them to play on our front lawn/fake cottage this summer before they become too famous.    Check out their video  here .

Posted by . Categories: Hanging Around, This Charming Man. Tags: , , . Leave a comment

01

Jul. ’10

Torontanimose Place

Buster Keaton in Pretend Film Jail

What a riot.  Not so much that G-20 shindig over the weekend where an army  hooligans  dressed in black costumes caused a big, fat rumpus downtown.  Anarchy is so embarassing, I can’t even watch that news.  I’m talking about the aftermath, what was all over the media  days after, where reports that “innocent people” were arrested for “nothing.”  They were sent to a makeshift detention center nicknamed “Torontanimo Bay” which is on Eastern Avenue.  A film studio, yes Pretend Jail.  Take a tour of it here from CTV News with Austin Delaney, who I’m thinking is pretty hot lately.  I’m liking his silver fox-ness, but he still has some dark left like that guy in the Touch Of Grey commercial….grrrr….experience and energy, he knows what he’s doing.   Anyway, all these innocent people who attended the riot trying to get their message of peace across ended up in jail and some of them were just minding their own businesses.  One man was detained for 12 hours and given 3 sandwiches.  The horror.  On Sunday, I would have liked a sandwich but my Loblaws was closed!   They were on *shut down* because the Disney Prison was a block away.  Yes, I said the Disney Prison because this detention centre  is actually a film studio.  If I had the where-with-all to actually travel to another city to attend a riot, I would be disappointed if I didn’t get arrested.  Wasn’t it part of the travel brochure?  I bet there were some hook-ups just like Melrose Place but with handcuffs, everyone was under 30 full of piss and vinegar.  I remember when I was a youth, in a mosh pit, if I didn’t come out with dislocated shoulder or at least a broken bra strap, I would feel I didn’t get my money’s worth.  The tour of the studio prison was fantastic…open concept port-o-potties!  All prison toilets you see in the movies or on tv have no doors, the officer expained in the news story.  I thought so!  In the sequel to Bridget Jones, there is an open air toilet as well as The Kiss of the Spider Woman. And I am pretty sure there’s a scene where that buffanted Sean Penn takes a full monty slash in Dead Man Walking, if there isn’t I probably saw him do it on TMZ.  How I do love a prison film.  In fact, I went trolling through some of the classics here:

The Fim Buff 1380 Queen Stree East at Greenwood

I do have a copy of Midnight Express, which I think I might watch tonight in honour of all the innocent inmates.  Now that’s a serious prison movie, take a peak here.  I haven’t seen this since high school, scared me straight! and haven’t eaten Turkish Delight since.  And by the way, school’s out for summer, which seems like prison, congrats to the grads!  And!  My 30 Day Bikram Yoga is completed, which is kind of a self imposed prison but makes me realize if I did end up in a cell somewhere (hot, of course), I’d have have something to do for 90 minutes!  Hmmmm, maybe crime does pay….

Posted by . Categories: Do This Not That. Tags: , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

27

Jun. ’10

Me So Hungry

I’m tired of  figuring out what to eat and when to eat it.  I’m also tired of this daily yoga crap.  Today is Day 26 of the 30 Day Beaches Bikram Yoga Challenge and guess what I did?  I skipped it!  So send me to the bowels of Hell,  I will double up on Tuesday and go at 6am and then at 5:30pm, just  watch, I’ll do it.  The thing that makes me crazy is scheduling feeding times.  An empty stomach and yoga are best friends, once you have something in there, even a fig newton, things go awry.  Today I just want to stay home and not move.  The G-20 has all Torontonians in a state of submission.  And who doesn’t love a diversion?  A medium-sized earthquake, a gathering of world leaders blocking off the downtown core, and a new burger joint in the hood and I’m a happy camper.  The latest hamburger stand in question is called The Burger’s Priest and it is causing much controversy around these parts, ie. my house.  It’s a tiny place with a few stools located east of Coxwell on Queen.  Like Burger Shoppe and  Great Burger Kitchen, the priest burger uses organic meat (ground an hour ago!), but unlike the other two, The Burger’s Priest doesn’t have a whole lot of excess theme toppings other than onions and ketchup.  The default burger is a cheese burger and there is a thing called The Option.  You can put The Option on your burger or you can have The Option if you are a *vegetarian*.  I want to keep The Option a secret so you can be as surprised as I was.  Spoiler Alert:  It’s a Portobello mushroom stuffed with cheese and deep-fried in batter.  When I first found out, I had a culinary boner.  I know from past experience, cheese and mushrooms are visually foode porn.  And I also know anything can be deep fried.  But when I actually ate it, I was spooked…maybe these two should hang out elsewhere.  The Olive Garden, perhaps. The burgers are delish, absolutely, but they are petite.  In their petiteness, they are probably the correct portion which is the size of a deck of cards or the palm of your hand…NOT giant Tarot Cards, or Godzilla’s mitts.  Get used to it, Fatty.  My Jugheaded son, Freddy, will have to order two or three to be satiated but it is the perfect size for my daughter, Evangeline, who is waffling on being a *vegetarian.*    And when I frame a word with **, I am curling my hair and brushing my teeth.  Me, I am happy eating anything with fries, ie. the devil’s starchy fingers.  These ones are the skinny delicate “frites”, the kind that come without guilt because you barely need to chew them.  Also, you can park at the Liquor Store, pick up some Devil’s Pale Ale to wash it down and go to *Confession* the next day.

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink. Tags: , , , , . 4 Comments

24

Jun. ’10

In His Shoes

Freddy’s Graduation Shoes

This Friday, Freddy is graduating Grade 8 from Bowmore Public School which means a ceremony in the morning at Monarch Park and some Baby Duck at the beach in the afternoon.  Problems include:  he needs to wear a shirt, tie, and trousers which is easy but it would be nice if he had some black shoes that are not sneakers.  More problems: He’s 14, part man, part weed.  He will not shop in the boys’ department anymore so he takes the smallest size men’s trousers at The Gap but his shoes…well, there’s where the weed part comes in.  His feet grow every 3 months.  Once his feet grew a whole size in one day right after he got a new pair of shoes. He walks on his toes so his shoes never really wear out so if you see something you like on his feet, let me know.  Anyway for Grad Day, I know that buying him a new pair of man-shoes that go with trousers would be sort of dumb because they would only be worn once so off I went to VV boutique on Queen and Logan:

Value Village at Queen St East and Logan

There were racks of shoes on neat display (which is why I love VV boutique, the tidiness and organization) and lo and behold, in his size 10, were a pair of Doc Martens for $15.   And ties.  And other stuff.  If you need something, like a lamp or a clock, that’s the place to check before you end up spending $800 in one of the antique stores nearby.  And do you ever get that retail therapy itch?  It’s where your mind goes blank while  you relax your gaze and let your hands  finger-f**k your way through racks of merchandise.  This is a harmless place to do this because the most you end up spending is twenty bucks.  I think this must be why men go to Thailand.  It’s cheap and no one will know.  There’s parking in the back so you can shop til you drop.  Nearby and around the corner are Rowe Farms and Brick Street Bakery:

Rowe Farms, 1 kilo of organic chicken wings for $9.95

Brick Street Bakery in Leslieville, 255 Logan Ave

Brick St bakery is right where the parking lot is so it’s crazy not go in and pick up an organic spelt baguette.  Listen to the fancy lady talk.  I bought one and I’m going to eat it with an organic honey garlic sausage from Rowe Farms.  There are hidden messages everywhere.  This is the truck from Value Village that I was parked beside:

Some pictures don’t need a caption.

Posted by . Categories: shop til you drop. Tags: , , . Leave a comment

22

Jun. ’10

Let There Be (Incandescent) Light

According to the Mayans, the end of time is scheduled for 2012.  And then what?  All that yoga and Pilates for nothing? Carry on as if you don’t know, I say, something might come up and there will be an extension so it’s good to be prepared.  Besides, the Mayans may have meant to say it’s the end of light and it just got lost in translation.  Last week I was in Ikea looking for cheap and cheerful things to decorate my personal ashram when an announcement came on:  “Incandencent lightbulbs will be phased out by 2012 and LED lights will only be available.”  Seriously, is this more Al Gore buffoonary forced upon us?  Aren’t LED lights like the devil you don’t know?  They are full of mercury.  If you drop one and it breaks, you have to hire a crew wearing Hazmat suits to clean it up and you need to check into a hotel for a few days while they detoxify your house.  Blue LED has been linked to all kinds of health hazards including disturbed sleep and even cancer.  And the lighting is UGLY!!!  I have them in my hallway and the atmosphere feels like a lobby in a cheap resort.  I am stockpiling incandescent lightbulbs from here on in.  They are getting harder to find, they’re certainly not at Ikea.  By the way, I actually had some good luck there with a discontinued chair and an area rug, but not for lighting fixtures which was what I was looking for.  Anyway, how bad can incandescent light bulbs be?  Folklore has it that they can make them so they last forever but they don’t so you have to keep buying more.  Lots of things are like that including time,  so you can’t really begrudge the manufacturers.  If an LED bulb runs out, you have to shlep to a depot that disposes of them safely.  Regular light bulbs you can make crafts out of with the children, check out this delightful reindeer here.    I found the perfect light fixture at my favourite antique shop in Leslieville, Machine Age Modern.  They have a lot of sixties style furniture at pretty good prices:

Machine Age Modern, 1000 Queen Street East at Carlaw

Here is my lamp proudly lit with incandescent bulbs, along with the drapes I HUNG MYSELF with a drill I bought at Loblaws.  Who needs a man anyway?  I am woman, hear me whirrrrr:

And for your viewing pleasure, here is the rest of my personal ashram:

Posted by . Categories: an inconvenient truth. Tags: , , , . 2 Comments